


Everyone Loves a Clown by Samantha Agee

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Romance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	Everyone Loves a Clown by Samantha Agee

 

Disclaimers: Don't own them, wish I did, imagine the possibilities. ;-)  
Not  
for profit, unless you count feedback as profit. <hint, hint>

Notes: Not beta'd, not spellchecked and the demon speller LOVES me, so consider yourself warned. ;-) 

Summary: This one has many reasons and _nothing_ turned out the way it was supposed to. ::sigh:: 1) This is for Shanny Girl who asked for a bright, cheerful story to balance out Bad News/Good News  <g> \- but the guys got a hold of it and decided my nice little happy piece needed their own personal angst- filled touch so I'll try for another Happy Snip later when they guys are asleep - after I have them wear themselves out. ;-) 2) This also houses the obsenad short I made for the Senad list but never posted in thanks for all the help my wonderful listsibs gave me in helping me figure out the words to a song for J/B. 

Warnings: Ummm...lessee. Henri in tights, Jim in leather and Megan and Rafe in the Kissing Booth. Any questions? <g> Oh - and Blair gets wet. ::innocent smile:: Mess with my happy little snipet, willya.... 

* * *

###  Everyone Loves a Clown 

by  
[Samantha Agee](LadiLark@aol.com)

"Damnit!" 

Coming up short and blinking once at the angry curse that greated the Sentinel as he stepped into the loft, Jim smiled slightly, tilting his head as he shut the door. "What's the matter, Darwin? Some coed refuse to give you her number?" 

Sandburg's hand mimiced laughter as he mouthed the retort. "Funny, man. No, Jim. I've been trying to figure out the words to this song and for the _life_ of me I still can't get it right!" 

Ellison chuckled at the way the grad student threw his hands in the air, punctuating the frustrated complaint with an equally frustrated glare at the offending object. In this case, the tape inside the deck of the portable tape player sitting beside a legal pad on the kitchen table. 

"And I _need_ these words, man." 

"Slow down, Chief. What's the rush?" 

"What's the rush?" Blair asked him in amazement before seeming to change his tune in midstride. "Ah well...no rush, I guess. It's just that..." The kid sighed, running a hand through the mop of curly hair and sighed again. "These are just the right words, I mean _the_ words... Arg! This _sucks_!" 

_Well that certainly explained that_ , Jim thought in mild exasperation. Almost. Maybe. Nah...who was he kidding? Even as well versed in the language that was Sandburg as he was, Ellison hadn't understood a word of it. 

"Here, why don't you let me give it a try," the Sentinel offered, hoping to sooth ruffled feathers. "We can use the deck in the sound system, it has better sound quality anyway." 

Blair looked up at his partner in surprise, definitely not having expected help on this one. For one reason, he had thought it would be too close to the sensory tests Jim dreaded so much to even ask. "Really? Great, man thanks! I keep playing it over and over and I still can't tell what he's saying," the grad student confessed ruefully. "I was starting to worry that I was going to wear the tape out in that one spot." 

Jim just shook his head and smiled, taking the tape Blair rescued from the battered player. "Well, we can't have you wearing out your tapes, now can we? Unless..." the Sentinel thought for a moment. "Which tape _is_ this anyway, Sandburg? If it's one of those God-awful techno-rock or drums-in-the-jungle things, you're on your own, Junior." 

Blair chuckled, striving to look offended. "Hey, I resemble that remark." 

"I know you do," deadpan, the older man drawled. "Why do you think I said it?" 

A quick flash of a grin. "Because you're a egotistic, self destructive schmuck with absolutely no taste..." 

"Laugh it up, fuzzball." Ellison muttered under his breath, tuning into the music as it filled up the loft, the sweet strains sad but oddly lifting at the same time. He knew this song. 

"...and no hope when it comes to recognizing good music?" Blair finished, smiling sweetly. "But what's an open opus?" 

"Hope in hopeless." Jim answered absently, still caught up in the words. 

"What?" 

"You found hope in hopeless." The detective looked up at his Guide, adding the rest of the verse. "You made crazy sane. You became the missing link that helped me break my chains." 

"Oh." Blair stared at him, just stared at him, for a moment before hitting his head, turning to scribble the words down on the pad. "Well that makes a lot more sense! Thanks man, I really owe you one." 

"No problem, Chief. I just hope whoever she is appreciates the gesture." Shaking himself out of his haze, Ellison grinned pointedly at the smile the younger man all but blinded him with. "But until then, I believe I recall it being your turn to cook?" 

Blair laughed. "Oh. Right, right, right. Just a sec and I'm on it. Browned rice and veggies ok?" 

"Sounds good. I'm going to hit the shower while you do that." 

"You got it, partner." 

\---------------------- 

Safely behind the solid bulk of the closed bathroom door, Jim Ellison, ex- Army ranger now Cascade detective and Sentinel released the breath he had been unconsciously holding since the first sweet strains of the song had sounded in his ears. Released, too, the pent up emotions that had caught him unprepared by the sheer fact of having that song playing with his best friend, Guide and partner standing not three feet away, overjoyed at the opportunity to saranade some new lady friend with the song that Jim had secretly wished belonged to him and Blair. 

He laughed shortly, more of a bark really and totally without humor. Leave it up to Sandburg to steal their song. 

Jim had stared at the young man, bouncing happily, furiously joting down notes with the same intensity the detective had seen him use when digging through old anthropology texts or the PD's database, looking for _the_ clue that would crack whatever case they were currently assigned. Equal time, equal enthusiasm for all things, that was Blair. 

The man he loved with an intensity that scared the hell out of him. The man that, obviously, didn't love him back. At least not the same way. 

And to know that, not only was Blair gearing up to see someone else, the younger man would be wooing her with _their_ song..... 

It was too much. Shaking his head, the Sentinel felt the tears start to flow; mixing undistinguishable with the warm water of the shower he let them fall. 

\----------------------- 

As the Jim started the shower, closing the door behind himself, Blair sank into the chair while releasing a pent up breath as he did so, grateful to have the distraction of dinner to keep him occupied. 

Relieved, too to have the illusion of privacy the walls between them provided. Enhanced senses...sight, sound - Blair shivered - _touch_...he knew Jim's range almost as well as the Sentinel himself did, sometimes better, having been the one coaching, supporting, encouraging the man to find those limits and then break them. 

The modern day watchman could hear the slightest noise from several blocks away so hearing his way past one lone wall would hardly be a challenge if Jim wanted to listen in on his roommate; not that Blair could think of any reason he would ever _want_ too. And he also knew that Jim would never use his abilities to spy on him. 

They were best friends, partners and trust was the name of the game. Jim promised and Blair believed him. 

He took the opportunity to sigh again. 

Well, ok...maybe not _touch_. He had no actual valid way to discover first hand just how sensitive Jim could become with his tactile responces but...the very thought was enough to send shivery tingles arching through the observer's body, the increasingly practical brain as always trying and failing to point out the futility of the teasing thoughts. 

Blair Sandburg sighed one last time getting up to prepare dinner with the weight of the world - or at least his little corner of it - a heavy weight dragging him down. He knew Jim probably thought the song was to be part of some elaborate Sandburg seduction ritual; with Blair's track record it didn't take a genious IQ to figure that out. 

And in a way, it was. In a way. But the anthropologist couldn't very well admit that he had wanted the words for his partner...that the song reminded him of a certain pig-headed, stone faced cop... 

Could he? 

\--------------------- 

The following day was Saturday, the start of the weekend and the two day festival that was the joint pet project of Cascade's fire, rescue and police departments. It was for a very good cause, namely an opportunity to hype child safety, anti-drug and violence campaigns and public awareness in general; it was also the only thing that could cause the three branches of the city's civil service core into cooperating with each other. 

At least for two days. And even then it was looking to be a stretch. 

Simon Banks, captain of the Cascade PD, Major Crimes division and Jim and Blair's superior had grudgingly and with a false cheer (the Chief having been in the captain's office at the time of their briefing) explained the agenda, guidelines and goals for this year's event. 

Last year's fundraiser being the success it was, it had been decided between departments that they would try and repeat the results by building on what had worked before. The themed event this year would take on a medievil flair right out of the Dark Ages with jesters, archers, gypsy fortune tellers and even a kissing booth set up in the peck-on-the-cheek tradition. 

Blair smirked. Obviously the powers-that-be behind this little idea had no _clue_ about the true nature of those boothes....or where they got their origins from. The observer's grin grew wider as he waved to Rafe and Megan, both in costume of Lady and Noble and taking their places in both sides of the brigthly colored booth that boasted 'Kisses - A Dollar A Peck'. The grin grew into an evil chuckle as he regarded his two friends awaiting their first customers of the day. Hey - far be it from him to fill them in and ruin the fun. 

His fun anyway. Besides, if he ever needed teasing fodder in the future, _then_ would be the perfect time to trot out the true meaning of the 'innocent' little custom. 

Still chuckling to himself, his gaze drifted, catching Henri and Simon's son Darryl in costume as well; Henri having drawn the Fool in the office lottery. Taking one look at Brown's brightly mismatching costume and jester's hat complete with bells, Darryl had quickly talked his father into at least allowing the young man of seventeen the dignity of joining Jim at the archery range. 

Or, as Darryl had put it in so many words - if he had to wear tights, he at least wanted to be holding a weapon of some kind when he did so! 

Looks like the kid got a twofold reprieve; not only did Simon agree to let him work with Jim but, unlike the Fools and Nobles, the Archers were wearing leather breeches. 

And Blair gets stuck wearing a clown costume. How the hell did _that_ happen? 

_You know why, Sandburg. The Chief didn't want to leave anything out so he, in his infinite wisdom, decided that no carnival would be completely without BoBo the Clown._ Or Giggles in his case; Trevor from Theatrics over at Rainier was playing BoBo over on the other side of the place-of-festival. 

It could be worse, he supposed. Jim could always come up with new Sandburg jokes in the getup he was wearing today. Way oversized pants held on _only_ by a set of gaudy suspenders and a prayer, boasting several brightly mismatching patches accompanied an equally tasteless flannel shirt proudly displaying it's own set of patches. The oversized clown shoes were a given and Blair silently prayed to any diety listening he would be able to keep himself from falling on his face today. 

Ah well, he supposed he could look on the bright side; if he did fall he could always say it was part of the act. 

Tugging the bright, almost flourescent orange wig over his head, the police observer couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve this. "Hey Sandburg! Wha'd you do, man? Dye your hair?" 

"Real cute." Unconsciously reaching back up to check the frizzy clown hair, Blair grinned and managed to snap back, "Nice tights, H. No really, I mean that. They're you, man." 

Henri Brown the Fool just laughed, winked and kept on walking, doing a jig, his bells jingling as he rounded the corner. 

Shaking his head, still smiling, Blair scanned the site, his gaze as always seeming to seek out and land on his partner some twenty feet away. Dressed in leather in muted shades of brown and green, Jim Ellison certainly looked the part. Sleeveless green tunic banded with dark brown on the hem lines, dust brown leather breeches tucked in to darker boots, the outfit showed off the detective's body perfectly. Jim had adamently forgone the cap complete with feather, his only accessories a dagger on the belt at his waist, the longbow he would shoot and a quiver of arrows across his back. 

And Blair Sandburg stuck in a clown suit. How the _hell_ did that happen?? 

Then again, maybe the baggy pants had a usefulness to them after all. 

"You just want to see the man in leather breeches." Sam teased, coming up behind him in a swirl of skirts. The same Powers that put him in the now blessed clown pants had also put his fellow TA in a dress. Not just any dress but a wildly, flamboyantly exotic gypsy costume of vivid blues, violets and wine reds. Fabric dragging the ground, the art teacher had to hold the monstrosity up in order to get anywhere. 

Smiling in greeting, Blair remembered what she had said; having volunteered to work the carnival with them when Blair mentioned they would be coming up short a few preople. To be surrounded by men in leather she'd gladly wear a dress. 

_Yeah well, there is that. Jim in leather..._ Blair silently agreed. _Or tights. Tights would...ohh man. Don't think about tights!_ His eyes returning with hers to where they rested on the muscled form of his partner a few feet away, he almost missed the question she had been asking. 

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"I asked if you had put your plan in motion yet." 

Blair jumped nervously but the question had been ambigous enough. "No. Tonight though." It would have to be tonight. Before he lost his nerve. "Thanks for letting me borrow the tape." 

"No prob, kiddo. How'd it go? Find the missing words?" 

At his suddenly wry grin, Sam wondered what it was she had missed. "What?" She hadn't been able to decypher the words either and had given him the tape thinking maybe he'd have better luck. "Well? Should I ask? Or do I even want to know?" 

Blair just shook his head. "I couldn't figure them out. Jim did." 

"What?!" Unable to believe that even Blair would be that crazy, Sam gaped at him from under that damned turban they insisted she wear. "You had _Jim_ \- the object of your affections Jim, translate for you?" She shook her head. "Sandburg that's...that's nuts m'friend." 

"I know. Tell me about it. I was trying to figure it out last night before he came home and - wham!" The anthropologist gestured. "There he was. And he offered." 

"Uh huh. So what did he say? No scratch that. What did you tell him?" 

"That they were the right words and left it at that." 

The Look she gave him would have done Mr. Spock proud. "Oh boy. Not good. You _know_ what he's got to think..." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Aiy." The art TA rolled her eyes at the mess Blair Sandburg had gotten himself into this time. "You just be sure you tell him tonight before the man gets away. I don't want to have to chase down two hundred pounds of Cascade detective looking for an imagined girlfriend while his partner has some explaining to do." She raised another eyebrow Spock-like to make her point. "In the meantime, I'm off to astound and amaze the guests with my phenomenal psychic gifts and you go delight young and old alike." 

"I...don't know if I can do this." He confessed softly. 

"Sure you can; everyone loves a clown. Just make sure you don't run out of candy and you'll be fine." 

"Sam...." Blair growled, nerves and butterflies alike dancing at the tension-breaker. "That is so _not_ what I meant." 

She only chuckled and gave him a supportive hug. "I know what you meant, Sandburg and trust me - _you_ are all the sweet that man needs, ok? Now, off t' the fairways wi' ye. I fer one 'ave a date with me crystal ball." 

With that horrible accent she was off with a wink and a swirl of skirts, heading down one of the narrow side alleys to the brightly colored both they had set up for Mistress Lark, gypsy Seer and teller of Fortunes. 

With one last sigh, Blair Sandburg began his curcuit of the carnival where Giggles the Clown would try to live up to the uniform, delighting both younger and older children alike, handing out candy and animal shaped balloons as the day wore on. 

\----------------------- 

Ok so maybe this wasn't so bad after all. 

Two hours in the dunking booth and Blair hadn't once gone under, no one even coming close to hitting the brightly painted red and white bullseye to his left. Rafe had gone down after an hour and Henri after only a few minutes, but it was looking more and more like Blair Sandburg would survive to tell the tale. 

The day was winding to a close, almost time to roll up the fairway and with the lessoning of the crowds, Blair had finally been able to ditch that horrible wig. With dusk approaching the tempratures, though still warm, were slowly cooling off to the point where Blair had shed his clown-flannel on the off chance someone did manage to dunk him, he would have it to ward off the chill later. 

So there he sat, legs swinging slightly, perched on the old wooden swing board above three feet of water, dressed in the faded baggy pants, white tshirt and a very smug expression on his face, taunting the last customers of the evening. 

"That was weak, man." Blair called out, making a face while the other people around the contestant chuckled. "And you call yourself a detective, Rafe? Scary thought, man, real scary thought." 

"You'd just better watch it Sandburg." The Noble Rafe warned. "My next throw just might connect!" 

"Suuuuuure. Right. Uh huh. Go for it." Blair laughed. "No one's good enough to dunk this kid!" "Oh I don't know." A new voice startled him out of his self congradulatory musings. "I think I could give it a shot." 

"Jim? Man, don't you dare!" He hissed inaudible under his breath, knowing full well the Sentinel could hear him. 

The booth attendant gave the Archer a doubtful look. "You sure, m'Lord? No one else can touch the lad." 

"Yeah, why not?" The gleam in the blue eyes visible to none but Blair, Ellison continued to think about it, testing the worn softball in his hand almost fondly. "It's for charity, right? All in fun?" 

"Go for it, Jim." Sherriff Simon encouraged, having come up along side the detective and was now grinning from ear to ear. "You never know. You may just be the one to make the kid fall." 

_He already has, Simon. Just no one knows it yet._ Well fine if Jim was bound and determined to get him wet, Blair mights as well play it up. "Why not? Probably couldn't hit the broad side of a barn anyway. No - I know you couldn't!" 

Jim didn't say a word, only favored his Guide with that dangerous little half smile he wore when someone was about to get trashed. Or in this case, about to get the dunking of his life. 

Blair upped the ante, smiling sweetly. "What's the matter, Big Man?" He sneered. "Can't remember how to....whoop!" The taunt was cut off by the sound of the plate being hit - dead center - the release catching and one Blair Sandburg, arms flailing helplessly, being dumped into the tank. 

Sputtering, Blair came up to the sound of laughter and dragged the hair out of his eyes to see the smug look on the Sentinel's face, his fellow Major Crimes detectives pounding him with congradulatory pats on the back. 

"You were saying, Sandburg?" 

Laughing along with the rest, Blair cast a forlorn look down at himself, saying simply, "Two out of three?" 

\-------------------------- 

The rest of the evening had been spent making sure the site was deserted and closing everything up for tomorrow's opening; fair security, not the Cascade PD would be making sure everything stayed that way during the night. Saying their goodbyes, Jim and Blair had headed for the truck and home. 

The wet tshirt and pants, completely and thuroughly soaked after two more go arounds with the tank, had dried, the gaudy flannel he now wore in total harmony with the bubbly personality Jim had come to associate with his hyper partner. 

Scary thing was, replace the clown pants and shoes with Sandburg's own jeans and tennis shoes and Ellison could see the look working on the younger man. Bright, funny, it wasn't silly...just Sandburg. 

"You coming, Chief?" 

"Ah no." Blair gestured vaguely toward the Volvo. "I'm gonna, you know, go... See what happens, you know?" 

Waiting for the Sentinel's reaction, the anthropologist was subdued, not quite meeting the older man in the eye. The detective never noticed. 

"In _that_ getup?" 

"Ah... Yeah." 

Instantly the cheer of early drained away. He had forgotten that tonight was the night Blair had planned on trying out his little seduction scene on his latest Lady of the Week. 

"Oh. I see. Well..." Not wanting to seem upset and surely not wanting Blair to become aware of just _how_ upset he really was at the thought of his partner spending the night with someone else, Jim added almost as an afterthought. "Good luck, Sandburg." 

"You mean that?" 

"Yeah. I do." Thinking about how great today had felt, the teasing, the general air of friendship and closeness he had felt about the two of them, Jim lied through his teeth. 

Blair looked up, started to say something, changed is mind. "Thanks, man." 

The detective nodded, turned and headed up the stairs to the loft, mentally cursing himself for every type of fool known to man. Unlocking the door, the keys were tossed, jacket hung up and he found himself heading to the fridge to grab a beer by rout. Closing the door, his back leaning against the fridge, Ellsion began to panic. 

How could he have done that? How could he? Not only had he just let Sandburg go, jerk that he was, he had even given him his express permission and well wishes! 

_You idiot!_ He railed at himself, pressing the bottle up against his forehead, closing his eyes, the glass cold against his skin. Now what was he going to do? One of these days, Blair really _would_ meet Miss Right and what would Jim do? Be left in the dust probably without the one person he had grown to count on to always be by his side. The only one he felt safe enough to trust. The only one he had ever found to love. 

But he was too well controlled to panic, wasn't that what everyone said? How everyone saw the famous detective James J. Ellison? Cascade's leading hotshot detective? Cop of the year? 

Well they didn't know shit. The famous detective had no idea what to do, the cop of the year was out of options and the stoic, block of ice that was William Ellison's son was _panicking_ , dammit. What good was all of that if his partner wasn't there with him? 

"Only one thing to do, Jimbo." Turning back to the fridge and pulling out the items he had impetuously bought and placed there earlier while Blair had been out, Jim Ellison ignored the fact that he was talking to himself and started making things right. 

Roses, yellow petals tinged with pink, were the most beautiful things (beside his Guide of course) that he had ever seen and went in plain view on the middle of the table. They, along with the note Jim had painstakingly written and rewritten, were to be the first things Blair should see when he walked in the door. The salads and fruits were taken and placed around the vase and covered in reynold's wrap to keep them fresh. The main dishes of Hawaiian chicken and accompanying vegatables Jim had fixed while Blair had been busy recruiting at the university this morning went in the oven to warm. 

It was time. Only one thing to do and that was to win back what had never been his to begin with. Blair may be out wooing someone else but when he came home he would have to deal with what his Sentinel had in store for him. When he came home...that was when the wooing would start. 

It was that moment he realized that Blair was still standing downstairs; he could hear his heartbeat... 

...and that's when the singing started. 

\----------------- 

Blair waited until the light came on in the loft before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steady himself. Waited a few more minutes before he finally got the nerve to more than stare in longing at the large window. Then before he lost his nerve, he began to sing. 

I said 'Hello I think I'm broken'  
And though I was only jokin'  
It took me by surprise  
When you agreed 

The first couple lines of the song he had mentally dubbed as 'theirs' filtered out strained and shaky, both fear and anticipation combining to tie his stomach in knots, to steal his breath. What if Jim didn't feel the same way? What if he never wanted to have anything more to do with his Guide after tonight? What if... 

Blair shook his head, dismissing the 'what ifs'. He had to get through the song first; _then_ he would worry about whatever lay in store for the Sentinel and his partner. 

I was tryin' to be clever  
For the life of me I never  
Would have guessed how far  
The simple truth would lead 

The next few notes gaining speed and strength as he found himself singing the words not with his mind, not with his thoughts on what would happen after it was all over but with his heart, his being centered on the here and now. On Jim up on the second floor, on himself standing under the loft windows, where it was entirely posible he was making a complete and total ass of himself. It would all be worth it, if only Jim agreed. 

You knew all my lines  
You knew all my tricks  
You knew how to heal that pain  
No medicine can fix 

And I bless the day I met you  
And I thank God that He let you  
Lay beside me for a moment  
That lives on  
And the good news is  
I'm better for the time  
We've spent together  
And the bad new is  
You're gone 

He tried to keep the tears out of his throat at that last verse, knowing that if this didn't work...if it backfired on him then the words may end up being all too true. Depending on how badly the older man took his confession, he may not be out of a home...but the partnership may never be the same again. 

And he _was_ better, dammit! He was as far removed from the still dorky, immature kid that had moved in to the loft as Jim was from the bad-ass, foul tempered cop he had not-partnered with. Jim may have mellowed under the influence of his Guide, everyone said so, but he hadn't been the only one who was different. Blair, too had changed; and it was all due to the Sentinel's steady nagging and follow through that Blair had, finally, grown up. 

They were _both_ better for the last three years they had lived and worked together. They could be better, still, if only things worked out the way they should. The way Blair hoped. 

A brief moment of panic blazened up out of nowhere, threatening to cut off the words in his throat but he pushed it aside. He had started this, the only thing he could do now was see it through... 

Looking back it's still surprisin'  
I was sinking  
You were risin'  
With a look you caught me in midair  
Now I know God has His reasons  
But sometimes it's hard to see them  
When I awake and find  
You're not there 

Please, please don't let it be true. Don't let him lose Jim over this. Don't let Jim not be there... 

While it was true that Jim may have been hit hard with his senses going screwy all over the map, Blair had also been in danger. Losing yourself in academia may not be as tramatic a death as nearly eating a garbage truck but it was still death of a kind, just a slower way to go. And in hindsight, it was all too clear that had been the direction he had been headed; a slow retreat from the real world, a world that Jim had dragged him back into, all without knowing it. 

The had caught each other... Could they do it again? 

You found hope in hopeless  
You made crazy sane  
You became the missing link  
That helped me break my chains 

A second voice had joined his on the last couple of verses, the ones Jim had helped him find the words to and Blair turned to find the Sentinel standing against the wall of the building, watching him. Staring in surprise, Blair managed to take a breath, even find his voice again, able only to venture one word. "Jim?" 

Now was the moment he had both dreaded and desperately anticipated. Jim knew. And Blair couldn't hide anymore. His body trembled, his hands went numb, his mind frozen solid, no words, nothing made sense, thoughts scattered, flitting around in a million pieces on a high wind. His breath caught in his throat, his entire world stopped, frozen, stuck - he couldn't have moved if he tried. 

But Ellison's only responce was to take up where Blair - where they - had left off, finishing the chorus with undisguised tears in eyes that never left those of his partner. 

And I bless the day I met you  
And I thank God that He let you  
Lay beside me for a moment  
That lives on  
And the good news is  
I'm better for the time  
We've spent together  
And the bad new is  
You're gone 

When the last verse was over and still the Sentinel hadn't moved, Blair began to worry all over again. "Jim?" 

The bear hug that enveloped him didn't do alot for his breathing but it did serve to start his heart back to beating - triple time. 

"Tell me you didn't go. Tell me Blair." The words, muffled from where the Sentinel had buried his head in Sandburg's hair finally registered in the Guide's slowly rebooting brain. Jim was holding him - okay crushing him - his hands around his Guide and tangling in his hair and everything was going to be ok. "Please?" 

Blair wound his arms around his partner's waist and held on tight. "I did go, Jim." At the sudden harsh intake of breath, Blair squeezed harder. "Where I always meant to. Right here under our window." 

Steadying himself, the detective pulled away, needing to study the younger man's face. Finally he asked, "Why?" 

"It was you, Jim. Always you, man." Blair admitted honestly, blushing a little. "I mean ever since I saw you run after the helicopter to take down Kincaid...anyone else was just a cover man. Smoke and mirrors." 

Jim placed a single finger on his lips. "That's not why I did it, Chief. Yeah, I wanted the man locked up and his ass in jail but that's not the reason. He had you and I wanted you back." 

Blair flushed at that, pleased in spite of himself that Jim had thought more about him than catching the bad guys. "Really?" 

"Really. How long have you been planning this, Sandburg? I mean, last night.." Ducking his head to hide the hurt in his eyes he needn't have bothered. Blair felt it anyway. "You really had me fooled." 

"I didn't mean to, Jim. I wasn't sure how you'd take this," Blair gestured, or tried to; now that he had him, his Blessed Protector wasn't letting him go. "I mean you never gave me any clues or anything... Ok, ok...planning this? Since last week. How long did it take me to get my courage up? Oh man!" Blair chuckled and found Jim giving him a sympathetic grin. "Probably since the day Larry trashed the loft. I mean you could have thrown us both out on our butts, man, but you didn't. You even let me go undercover for you and let me stay with Mrs. LaCroix instead of pulling me out. You trusted me to handle it; not only myself but a potential police situation and I wasn't a cop. That.." He shook his head at the memory. "That meant a lot to me...what?" 

Jim was smiling, looking a little bemused. "Nothing, Chief. Just...thinking I did the right thing." 

"Jim? What did you do?" 

"Me? Not a thing." At Blair's patented 'I'm so not buying this' look, he sighed, broke down and confessed. "Just that a home cooked meal of all your favorite foods is waiting in the oven, the loft is in candles and there's a note you really should read by the roses in front of your plate." 

"I...yeah?" At a loss for words, the anthropologist could only stare in amazement at the glowing form of his partner still holding him close enough that even he could see the blush that was rising up from the collarbones. "You did all that for me? Why, Jim?" 

"Why did you just saranade me outside my window, Chief?" 

Taking a deep breath, Jim Ellison jumped right in. "I love you, Blair. And when you came home from your latest conquest I fully intended to fight for what was mine." 

And as always, Blair Sandburg was right there to catch him. "No need for that, big guy - I'm already here. I love you, too, Jim." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"In that case, " Ellsion grinned, pulling the younger man to him by his clown suspenders. "I always did love a man in uniform." 

Staring at the man - his partner and soon to be lover in shock, it took Blair a minute before he started out laughing, a part of his mind wondering where he could get a patrolman's uniform for the next Halloween party. Or maybe he would just wear this one. Giddy with relief, Blair wiped the moisture from his eyes, hugging his partner close and just now remembering that they were in full view of the world on a very public street. 

And realizing that neither of them cared. 

Drawing Blair in for a kiss, their first of many, the Sentinel held him close, never wanting to let him go. 

And his Guide let him, never intending to leave. 

END. 


End file.
